Memories from another life
by Animagigirl
Summary: Some say dreams are memories from another life.    Sherlock has a strange dream
1. Chapter 1

_Red mountains capped with snow. Trees...with silver leaves? Children in robes similar to a monk,s twirling in fields of deep red, men and women dressed in red, with odd head dresses that arch over their head. There is a hole- a rip. A rip in reality itself. The schism. A young boy with at least eight, with dark, curled hair and the most peculiar, piercing green-gray eyes, is escorted towards the schism by a group adults. Torches surround them, the flame's lights flashing across their faces, casting an eerie shadows. One of the adults nod at him. The young boy turns towards the schism, gazing into it. It swirls with almost every color known, and some not. It seems to never have an end, to go on and on for eternity... his eyes blur as he crumples to the ground._

Sherlock wakes with a jolt.

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><p>Authors note: What do you think?<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

_Sherlock woke with a jerk_. He rubbed his eyes as he sat up on the couch. He had stayed up late last night working on a case. That could've been the explanation for the dream. Only it wasn't the first of them. Sherlock swung his feet on to the floor and got up. John had dozed out in his chair. "John." He said shaking his shoulder "_**John!**_" "Ohb-uh-what! Did you solve the case?" Sherlock strode to the window, watching the street slowly wake up. "Yes, quite obvious, really, it was the gardener, you see-" Sherlock was interrupted when there was a loud rap on the door. "Another client?" John thought out loud. "Sherlock! Someones here for you!" They heard Mrs. Hudson shout. "Out of my way!" There were loud stomps up the stairs and an older women burst through holding a cardboard box. She looked around the room with beady eyes taking in the mess, then fixed them on Sherlock. "_You," _she said "You left this- junk, in your old flat! Imagine how many buyer were scared off when they found this!" she said, reaching her hand in the box, brandishing a skull. "And you be happy I didn't let them take this-" she pulled out a pocket watch "a man tried to buy it off me!" she shoved the box- along with the watch and skull, into sherlock with the force of someone twice her size, causing Sherlock to almost double over. Once Sherlock recovered, he straightened himself out and said in his best voice, the one he usually used at crime scenes on Lestrade- "Thank you, Mrs. Turner, I'd almost forgot how... hospitable, you were." With an inaudible comment, most likely an insult, Mrs. Turner turned on her heel and stomped out the door, but not before saying to Mrs Hudson "_Be careful about what you getting your self into_" It was silent before John was just about to ask Sherlock answered "Mrs Turner, if you didn't hear, she was my most recent landlady, our history- well lets just say she didn't like my _'hobbies'_ " Mrs Hudson piped up "you be happy I'm a forgiving person, young man, anyone else would have had you out at the wall incident" she said before going back downstairs. Sherlock placed the cardboard box on his desk and turned to John "Well, we'd best be informing Lestrade of his success" He started to put on his coat and scarf while John rummaged through the contents of the box. A microscope, a skull, bones and the peculiarly engraved watch "Sherlock, Where'd you get this?" John said stroking the intricate design of circles on the watch lid surface. Sherlock glanced towards him. "Oh, that, I forgot I had that old thing, I've had for as I can remember. From an old friend I think. Its worthless, doesn't tick or open. I don't know why I haven't gotten rid of it. Are you coming with me or not?"


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock and John went downstairs and hailed down a cab. John could see that Sherlock wanted this ride to be silent, but finally, his curiosity about the watch took over. "So, that watch, old family friend's?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"I can't remember"

"Wha- How can you not remember, you remember everything. Well everything but milk-"

"_**I can't remember!**_" Sherlock snapped, tuning his head from John and towards , window, gritting his teeth. More silence.

"Lovely watch though, if you don't want it, there is that pawn shop down the street, you could get a good deal-"

Once again Sherlock shouted.

"_**No, will you just **__**shut up**__** already about it!**_"

John blinked with surprise.

"What the hells gotten into you sherlock, you've been edgy since we left, your mad about a bloody _pocket watch, _you say you don't know where its from, which I think is just plain impossible for you, what the hell is going on?"

The cab was silent as they neared their destination.

"Thats just it John..."

Sherlock said turning to face him. John could see that Sherlock was in distress. His face was pale, his eyes were red rimmed.

"Sherl-"

"Thats just the problem, I can't remember. Me, Sherlock Holmes, doesn't know where a watch came from."

"Its just watch, you don't need to get worked up about it-"

The cab stopped. They got out and made their way to the revolving doors.

"Its odd," mumbled Sherlock, "I'm getting worked up about it, and I don't know why, Its just this feeling, _something_, it there, in my head, but its like theres a wall keeping me from it." they boarded the elevator. John sighed.

"Well if it bother you that much, I won't bring it up." _ding! _The elevator door opened Sherlock stepped out. "You coming?"

"Um, yeah, you just go, I need to- make a phone call" Sherlocks cold gray-green eyes pierced John, send shivers up his spine. Sherlock knew he was up to something, but he wasn't in the mood to pursue it. "Fine, but be back soon, Lestrade will probably want to talk to you to" he turned on his heel as the elevator shut. John pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Mycroft? Its me, John. I need to talk to you about your brother"


End file.
